“As soon as you wish,” he replied with gentle irony.
He regarded her with obvious delight, for truly she was beautiful: grand in this attitude of defiant despair. The man, who had spent the last half-hour in martyrizing her, gloried over the misery which he had wrought, and which all her strength of will could not entirely banish from her face.
“Will you believe me, Lady Blakeney?” he added, “that there is no personal animosity in my heart towards you or your husband? Have I not told you that I do not wish to compass his death?”
“Yet you propose to send him to the guillotine as soon as you have laid hands on him.”
“I have explained to you the measures which I have taken in order to make sure that we DO lay hands on the Scarlet Pimpernel. Once he is in our power, it will rest with him to walk to the guillotine or to embark with you on board his yacht.”
“You propose to place an alternative before Sir Percy Blakeney?”
“Certainly.”
“To offer him his life?”
“And that of his charming wife.”
“In exchange for what?”